I am the Kill
by FaberriesandCream
Summary: Madame Lestrange drabbles - fractions of a fractured life, suspended in the wrong order by strands of spiderwebby words. #1- teenage Bellatrix.


"…And he'll return to us Purebloods our pride, and our natural superiority!"

There was a sharp intake of breath and an electric crackle of excitement passed through the crowd. Bellatrix picked at her nails. In terms of numbers, 'group' might have been a more appropriate term for the gathering, but the word implies solidarity, commitment even. She flicked a clump of dirt from the end of her nail to the ground. There was a hollow thud as Yaxley leapt onto a crate and continued his speech. Bellatrix sighed and leant against the greenhouse, the cold of the glass passing straight through her blouse. Even as the sun was setting on the June evening, she needed it against her skin.

"So everything's going to be pretty fucking wicked for us, when we're the adults, when we run the country. We'll be exactly where we should be, and the world will be ours for the taking."

"What if we lose?" Devil's Advocate was Bellatrix's favourite game; just above _From __What __Distance __Can __You __Hit __That __Hufflepuff?_

"Excuse me?" Yaxley looked flustered, and more than a little aggravated, at her question.

"Well, the majority of the people on the planet are _fucking __stupid_, so it stands to reason that a significant amount won't agree with us. How far would _you_ go, for the cause? Would you fight them to the death, the Mudbloods and scum? Would you go to Azkaban in exchange for a blood traitor's life? Would you take a Dementor's kiss, for the greater good?" Bellatrix was upright now, striding through the crowd like a needle through flesh. Anyone that didn't move, she threw into the people behind them. Placing both hands on Yaxley's chest, she pushed him off his crate and took centre stage.

"How far would any of you go, to put the world to rights? Would you give your life, your sanity, your happiness? Would any of you give even a minute of your _time?_ This isn't about everything being happy and shiny and fun for Purebloods- this is about getting back what's ours. This is something bigger than your happiness- no matter how hard it is to believe that something like that exists. None of you have an ounce of commitment, creativity or loyalty in your bodies. This is more than an expansion of the privileges already given out to you spoiled fucking babies. This is a cause. This is something to live for, something to die for. Can any of you say you'd be prepared to give up everything for the greater good? For the advancement of the Pureblood race? Well?"

A silence had fallen over every last Slytherin skulking behind the greenhouses. Bellatrix's eyes flared like stars in the half-light, boring into all the people standing before her. Below her. She couldn't fathom the superficiality that could convince anyone there was something more important than this, their battle. She would die a million times over for her people- and everyone knows there is _nothing_ worse than death. A quiet murmur rippled across the crowd, as though a fine dust of normality had settled again.

"We're not going to _lose,_ we're far too powerful for that." Lucius scoffed, squeezing Cissy's waist.

_Stoptouchingmysisterwithyour__selfcentred__shallowfuckinghands._

"You're a crazy bitch, Bella. We don't need to do any of that. We're Purebloods. Everyone knows we're the best." Goyle rolled his eyes.

Bellatrix stood, panting, on the little wooden box. She felt empty, like she'd poured everything she'd been feeling onto the ground, and now no one wanted to help her clean it up. She felt dead. What did she care what they said? They were ignorant, self-centred fuckers with a penchant for cruelty. All she needed was to channel the latter, and they'd be as useful as they could get. No one understood. One day, she'd die for this cause. One day, she'd show them that there was none more dedicated than her. One day, she'd die for something worth it. And then she'd feel alive.

"Well, we'd better get the hell inside, before Slughorn catches us again. I mean, he's pretty lenient, but he can't turn a blind eye forever, and then we're all in the shit." Rookwood broke the tension over the still-quiet group. There was a muttered agreement, and everyone filed off in clusters towards the dungeons.

"It's alright, Bella. They'll understand one day. They're just children."  
>"Fuck off, Lestrange."<br>"But—"

"I said, fuck OFF!"

Bellatrix sat alone in the lilac gloom, slumped beside the crate, as the last silhouette sauntered back to the castle. She didn't need people, she didn't need a single one. Sitting in the dirt, Bellatrix might have shed one tear, but she didn't feel it. She refused to.

* * *

><p><em>Revisions to a drabble I wrote a couple of years ago, I forgot how much I love writing. Silly girl. I might add more Bellatrix drabbles to this if my mind will be so kind as to give me any...<em>

_xo_


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